Playing in Shadows

A review of Feist's Look at What the Light Did Now

By BJ Hogendorn
Published: December 7th, 2010 | 7:00am

When the editor at Venus Zine sent out an invite to review Look at What the Light Did Now, an insider’s view into the recording and touring process for Feist’s The Reminder (Cherrytree), it took me less than a nanosecond to nominate myself.

My relationship with Feist began with Broken Social Scene, a dynamic Toronto band that has housed the talents of Miss Leslie Feist, Amy Millan (Stars), Emily Haines (Metric), and a large number of other multi-instrumentalist singer-songwriters. But Feist’s career always seemed to follow the progression of my personal encounters. Much of Let It Die (Arts & Crafts) lent to the best and worst times of my burgeoning adulthood. “Mushaboom” was an anthem for the good times, while “Let It Die” absorbed the sorrowful tears of painful relationships. The best aspect of my relationship with Feist was that I was able to introduce many people to her whimsical, insightful music, because she had not hit mass audiences. Then The Reminder was released, and her beautiful, subtle presence hit the world on a much larger scale.

This is where the grandeur of Feist lies. Her music is timeless and beautiful. It’s empathetic and humble, and it represents her personality. Look at What the Light Did Now captures that in visual truth. But Feist’s music is much more than a representation of her own character, it represents a community of talented and creative individuals, and such is the back-story for the film.

Leslie Feist’s establishment as a world-class artist is also cast in her own shadow. She’s a woman who approaches music, not for the fame, but for the process of art. She is not one to spend time in front of the flashing bulbs of photographers. She prefers shadow as a source of light, as a connection to a parallel dream world where her music rests.

The film shows that the concept for everything Reminder-related was due to Feist’s need to not only stay in the shadows, but also to have a core group of people around her. Consider The Reminder’s album art. On the cover is Leslie, but we can’t clearly identify her, because it’s just a black outline of a woman caught in darkness. From her throat come lines of color and light. As the pages turn, those strings of color are connected to all the contributors, people Feist refers to as “amplifiers”—the people she trusts, personally and creatively. The film focuses on those colorful little amplifying lines.

When Feist began her first steps in the journey that would be The Reminder, she chose to include a crew. Rather than making an album by cutting each instrument and piece herself, she brought a large cast of creative minds into a beautiful old house, where, together, they recorded songs in single takes while wearing robes, sitting on couches and freezing on an outdoor patio. Percussion included stomping down steps and spinning bowls of nuts. The audience sees the fun, playful energy that created a Grammy-nominated album, errors and all. Who knows what would have come out if Feist had chosen to sit in a recording studio, alone with a producer.

Then came the tour. Feist and her creative army set out a global march, but as a girl who enjoys sitting on the sidelines, she wanted the focus taken off her. Thus, she hired artist and shadowmaker, Clea Minaker. Clea takes us through the process of sidetracking the audience and diverting the attention away from Leslie by broadcasting shadows 30 feet above the stage. The shadows used mud, cutouts of legs, and other props to provide a story and add new light to the songs.

This film is a provocative insight into the glamorous life of someone not trying to be glamorous. It allows us to enter the world of Leslie Feist; a world where 4-tracks are time machines, old brick houses are recording studios, and darkness provides light. It’s a beautiful world.

Be sure to check out Venus Zine's interview with Look at What the Light Did Now director Anthony Seck here.

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Cherrytree Records